


He Held You in His Hands Like You Were Something Precious

by ashleyerwinner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute, Dean prays to Cas, Fluff, Hugs, Kisses, M/M, One-Shot, Sam spies on Cas and Dean, the brothers hash out their man-feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 07:19:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashleyerwinner/pseuds/ashleyerwinner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean hash out their man-feelings, and when the subject of Cas comes up, Dean prays a thank you to him, or so Sam thinks, until Cas shows up at the bunker in the middle of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Held You in His Hands Like You Were Something Precious

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I get bored at work and this is what happens. Enjoy!

“Dean, you have to promise—“ Sam paused for a second, and took a deep breath in. “— _promise_ me, that you won’t lie to me anymore. Or put yourself and others in danger to save me.” When Dean didn’t immediately answer, he spoke again. “ _Dean_ , promise me.” His voice was dangerously furious.

“I promise.” Dean said, finally, and Sam hummed in response. Dean continued, “But you have to promise me that you’re not going to throw yourself at Death any time the situation rises. You’re my brother, Sam, and all I’ve known all my life is to protect you. I can’t really do that when you’re sacrificing yourself to the cause, man.”

“Dean, every day we throw ourselves at Death. It comes with the job title.” Sam shot back, venom in his words, and backtracked when he saw the pain in his brother’s eyes. “But yeah, I won’t kill myself, no more trials, no more ‘pigheadedness’ as Cas calls it.” He said, and Dean’s eyes softened.

“Cas?” Dean’s eyebrows raised. He shot a glance over Sam’s shoulder, as though Cas would come walking through the bunker, spouting angel-talk about the time relativity between humankind and angels. When he didn’t, Dean looked back at Sam. “So, Cas—“

“Tried to get me to talk to you? Yeah, he wouldn’t stop.” He stopped and sighed, dreading the inevitable tale of his angelic grace re-movement. “Cas noticed I had some angelic grace inside of me, you know, left behind because of Gadriel, and he was extracting it—“

“Extracting it?” Dean asked, horror in his voice, and Sam grimaced as he continued.

“Yeah, with a needle… in my neck. Anyway—“ Dean tried to interrupt, but Sam continued on, voice booming over his brother’s. “Anyway, I kept telling him to dig it in deeper, that my life wasn’t any more important than anyone else’s, and he stopped before he got close to killing me, and healed me. He said nothing was worth losing me—“

“Cas said that?” Dean asked, his voice unusually soft. Sam nodded, and scoffed.

“I know, right? He said that the ends didn’t justify the means anymore, and that his time as a human taught him that human life is precious and should be cherished, and stuff like that. Even in the end, when we couldn’t track Gadriel because he didn’t get enough of his grace from me, he didn’t seem upset in the slightest. I hugged him for like two minutes after that.” He explained, and Dean smiled.

“Wow, Cas?” He said, and laughed softly. Sam tried to place the look in Dean’s eye, but couldn’t place it. Thankfulness? Appreciation? Adoration?

Sam stood up and leaned over to hug his brother. Dean hugged back, strong arms braced against his back. They weren’t totally good, but this was a start.

When Sam walked away, hoping to recharge his drained batteries for the night, he glanced back at his brother to say goodnight. Dean’s eyes were closed, his head turned up to the sky. For a faithless man, Dean spent a lot of time praying. To Cas, anyway. Sam assumed he was thanking Cas for talking him off the roof, and taking care of him.

Sam left his brother to pray, and walked to his room, feeling a large weight lifted off of his shoulders.

* * *

 

Sometime during the night, Sam heard the bunker door open.

“ _Dean?_ ” Cas’ voice called out. Wait, Cas? Sam rolled out of his bed and opened his door, sliding through the hallways soundlessly. When he reached the kitchen, he spotted Cas and Dean, both talking in hushed tones. Sam kept hidden, and pressed his ear closer to the doorframe.

“I just wanted to, you know, say thanks.” Dean said, and if Sam didn’t know it was his brother in that room with Cas, he would never have guessed it was him. Dean was thanking Cas, in person? With an actual conversation? And not emotionally stumping himself and acting like a macho man? Was Dean possessed now?

“You know there’s never any need to thank me, Dean.” Cas replied, and Sam bit his lip to keep from laughing. He could almost hear Cas’ eye squint. “Dean, what is that on your arm—“

“Not now, Cas, we’ll talk about it later.” Dean said, harshly, and Sam’s jaw clenched. His _arm_?

“Why did you call me here? I had to drive nearly four hours for a simple thank you?” Cas’ voice had changed in tone, as if Dean had done something incredibly stupid. Sam shook his head angrily.

For a minute, there was silence. And then Sam heard shuffling, like someone walking. He pressed himself closer to the wall.

“Dean?” Cas’ voice said, unsure, and then silence again. Sam dared to peek around the corner.

Dean had his arms around Cas, and Cas’ arms were clutched hard around Dean. Their eyes were both closed, and Sam pressed himself against the wall again. He heard a muffled phrase from Dean, and then silence again.

“Dean.” Cas said, softly, like a proclamation of love. Sam’s eyes widened. He peered around the corner again.

Dean’s hands were on Cas’ face, holding him in place, and looking down at Cas like he was the sun and stars. Likewise, Cas was looking up at Dean, eyes wide and bright, looking at Dean like he was everything. Sam had suspected for a while that maybe Dean _was_ everything for Cas. Before Sam had a chance to hide behind the doorframe again, Dean surged forward, planting his lips firmly on Cas’. Cas’ eyes fluttered shut, his features relaxed for what seemed like the first time in his existence. Dean raked his fingers through Cas’ hair and pressed his body against his, and Sam looked away, in shock. He ran to his room as quietly as he could, and closed the door behind them, giving his brother and the angel time alone.

Safely back in his room, Sam nodded in silent acceptance. Apparently, he and Dean had more to talk about, good and bad, and while that weighed on his mind, Sam knew Dean was in good hands tonight.

Sam’s face contorted for a second, and he grabbed his iPod from the top of the dresser. If Dean was in good hands tonight, he didn’t want to hear it. Putting his music on full blast, he plugged his earbuds into his ears and settled into bed. Better safe than sorry.


End file.
